Barraca do Amor
by Katie Havok
Summary: Down here are memories of sunshine and birth, of joy and hope; it is untouched by the cares of the outside world, and here Tina can mentally set down her burdens and simply be entirely herself and uncomplicated.
1. Chapter 1

Warning: _**smut!**_ This was originally published on Ao3 on January 30th, 2017 and is being shared here for the sake of my own ego.

* * *

 _It's the perfect end to a perfect day_ , Tina thinks dryly, and can't find the energy to be surprised.

She wearily toes her sensible brogues off at the door and trudges into the apartment. There's no sign of her wayward Magizoologist, the man who is sometimes her friend and often her lover and usually her greatest irritant, and that awareness is the crowning achievement on a thoroughly unsatisfying day.

She sighs and clenches her jaw as she moves blindly about the space, riffling through the mail and tidying things before storming to the bedroom to change into her pajamas. She comes to an abrupt halt in the doorway, however, for tucked into an unobtrusive corner is a familiar brown case, lid open in invitation. Tina ponders for only a moment before her face melts into a relieved smile.

She crosses the room in three strides.

Tina often thinks that descending into the suitcase is truly like entering another world. It isn't just the constant warmth (always a balmy spring day) or the typical smells (the warm scent of animals, the earthiness of their habitats, and the bitter plants Newt keeps in his shed), but the pleasant atmosphere. Down here are memories of sunshine and birth, of joy and hope; it is untouched by the cares of the outside world, and here Tina can mentally set down her burdens and simply _be_ entirely herself and uncomplicated.

Newt isn't in his shed, and a cursory glance around the immediate area doesn't reveal leaves her jacket and grabs a tin pail, setting off to visit some of the more docile creatures, those who have been acclimated to her company and pose no threat of harm.

The Niffler sniffs in greeting and allows her to stroke his head. Dougal makes himself visible for a moment, just long enough to chirp in her general direction, before tending to the newest clutch of Occamy hatchings. Ethel the Erumpent and her calf bellow a greeting when she meanders by, but none of Tina's wanderings reveal a wild-haired, wiry human or his plant-like constant companion.

Tina finally finds him with the Graphorns, quite by accident. She's on her way to check the water enclosures when there's a familiar shout, followed by a gust of laughter. She trails after the sounds and stops far enough away to keep the beasts from feeling threatened, watching with a contented smile.

Newt is playing with the youngest Graphorn, rolling in the dust and allowing the baby to butt him with its tentacle-wreathed head. Tina discovered long ago that Newt is entirely capable with his creatures, but it's still slightly disconcerting to see a two hundred pound beast running full-tilt toward the man she's come to care for; still, Newt is agile, and he's able to evade both the calf and injury, laughing merrily all the while.

He weaves and skirts and dodges, and the small creature parries him. Tina watches until Newt is visibly perspiring and rumpled. There's sweat darkening the fabric covering his back and a growing ring around his neck, and Tina has to shift against a sudden influx of _heat_ at the sight. She shifts again when the young graphorn bites the hem of his shirt and pulls, tearing it cleanly at the seams. Newt hasn't noticed her and so thinks nothing of peeling off the ruined garment and tossing it aside.

It isn't until the Graphorn calf tackles him to the ground, sending them both rolling in the dust, that Newt looks up and spots her. Even from a distance, Tina sees his face coloring. Ducking her head to hide an amused laugh, she lifts a hand in greeting. She watches from the corner of her eye as he trots over, and her smile can't be hidden when he takes her in, shrugs and simply slings his shirt over his shoulder. It's a bold move, for him, and one he would only be comfortable making here in the case.

"Tina," he chirps in greeting, stepping into her space and ducking his head to meet her eyes. "I wasn't expecting you home until after supper time—or have I lost track of the hour again?" He frowned in consternation and Tina doesn't think, reaching out to take his hand and lifting her head to smile at him fully. He has this effect on her: simply being around him is enough to make the corners and burdens of her day seem _less_ , somehow. Less important. Less significant.

"No," she hastens to reassure, crinkling her eyes at him. "The bust was a disaster, and I don't want to talk about it. It was a bad tip, anyways. It's still early." She tugs on their joined hands and glances over his shoulder, ensuring the baby Graphorn has returned to its parents. Then she looks him over with a critical eye, taking in a landscape of freckles and scars she rarely gets to see in the light of day, and her smile softens. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Tina leads him to the shed, where she wets a flannel and wrings it in the basin. Newt sits on his stool and holds out his hand, expecting her to pass over the cloth. Instead, she rakes tender fingers through his hair, carefully ignoring his startled look, and gently swipes the cloth down his face. She glides it over his shoulders and down his arms, the scent of his light sweat filling her nostrils, before taking her time cleaning his back. By the time she works around to his stomach, Newt is taking measured breaths and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth.

Tina finishes her ablutions and hovers before him, suddenly at a loss and wrangling the unexpected appetite her ministrations have awakened. Newt eyes her and she tilts her head, worrying her bottom lip in her teeth: a timid challenge. He studies her and she can see him pondering her provocation; he hesitates only a moment before deliberately pressing his face against her hip. He kisses her through the fabric of her trousers while steady hands rise to clasp her waist, strong thumbs stroking shivery crescents through the thin material of her blouse.

Newt lifts his chin to catch her eye and there's a heated question in his gaze, as well as an unexpected softness. Tina nods once, and his hands find the buttons of her blouse, loosening them without hesitation. She allows him to peel off the garment and he leans forward to nibble at the stays of her corselet. Tina feels color infusing her cheeks at the same time warmth spreads deep in her stomach. She loosens the strings with the haste of experience while steady fingers find and open the buttons of her trousers, peeling them off her strong legs. She steps out of them and his fingers tangle in her garters, unhooking her stockings before tugging them off. Tina steps out of her corselet and allows her camisole to fall to the floor, standing before him bare and unflinching.

He exhales shakily while his hands graze over her stomach, the slight flare of her hips. He places another kiss on the dimple of her belly before pressing his forehead into her hip, wrapping strong arms around her. "My Tina," he says, and she feels goosebumps erupt across the swell of skin there. "Tina," he repeats, and his hands drift past the small of her back to cup her rear, fingers kneading the pliant cheeks before moving lower.

Tina's eyes close and her head rolls back as he rubs the muscles in her hips and legs and the skin of her outer thigh. He paints lines into her with calloused fingertips, trailing after them with the press of his lips, until her breathing roughens and her hands squeeze his shoulders. Newt voices a small laugh and lifts his eyes to her. "Is this alright?" he asks, and Tina has to restrain the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she squeezes harder and moves her hands lower over the curve of his bicep, before mapping the landscape of his shoulder blades.

"This is fine," she replies and hesitates a moment before continuing. "It would be better without your trousers in the way, though." His breathing catches, and she sees his eyes open wide. Tina prepares to take back the statement, ready to offer some exit or excuse until his eyes _darken_ in predatory anticipation and he shares a slow, languid smile that goes straight to her core.

"I may need some help with them," he says, and his voice is as close to a purr as she's ever heard it. "I find that my hands are quite pleasantly occupied right now." It's true; he's ghosting the tips of his fingers over the skin of her inner thighs, a pleasant distraction that suddenly has Tina fighting to stay upright. Newt must see her struggle, for he smirks and momentarily halts his teasing. His eyes flick from her to his trousers and then back, very deliberately.

Tina rolls her eyes playfully, but her hands are serious when they seek and find the placket of his trousers. Newt hisses as she unfastens the buttons, and he trembles against her before lifting his hips and allows her to draw them down his legs. They both issue a bark of shaky laughter when the garment invariably gets tangled in his boots, but Tina squats and loosens those too, and soon he is free and bare and pressed against her skin.

She remains kneeling between his legs and he stares, long and slow, before pulling her close. Newt brings her to his chest, his mouth finding her, and his kiss is all heat and hunger and teeth, nipping and sucking her lips. Tina surrenders to it, small sounds of hunger emitting from her throat. He takes those sounds into himself, returning them as small gasps and mewls, fanning the flames of their arousal.

Newt smells of sweat, sunshine, the herbs of his shed, and the animals in his care; his hair is coarse under her fingers, his mouth firm. She deepens their kiss and he _growls_ , an animalistic sound of want and need and ownership. She drags a hand down his body to touch where he throbs for her, and he jerks and hisses. Instead of discouraging her, however, he cants his hips and covers her hand with his own, eyes finding and _scorching_ through her.

"Tina," he manages, and she watches his throat work as he swallows. "Tina," he says again, and there are desperation and a question and a plea, all in one, so Tina catches him in another searing kiss. Newt _melts_ into it and she hums. "You're playing with fire," he mutters against her lips. Tina huffs a laugh.

"Maybe I want to play," she manages, and he gasps, loud and distinct, in the silence of the shed.

"Maybe you do," he growls, and his voice is molten. "But are you prepared for the consequences?" Instead of answering with words, Tina tightens her hold on him and strokes firmly, from the base to the tip, watching Newt's expression dissolve. His half-lidded eyes watch her as he moistens his lips, and the pink flash of his tongue entices Tina irresistibly. He sighs into her kiss and his fingers drift over the thatch of hair at the juncture of her thighs, and Tina decides she wants to _burn_.

"Newt, please don't make me wait any longer."

He growls and stands, pushing her back two steps towards his workbench. He sweeps out a careless arm to clear the space before lifting her onto her perch, positioning her at the edge of the bench with her legs wrapped around his waist. Tina can feel his breath, short, sharp puffs of air against her skin. His hands cup her jaw and he kisses her gently.

"I want to see your face," he explains, urging her legs to tighten around him possessively. "I want to watch you." Newt presses their foreheads together, nuzzling her cheek. He guides her hands to his shoulders while he uses his own to line them up. Their eyes remain locked as he sinks into her, inch by inch, until their hips are flush and it is impossible to be any closer. His eyes drift closed when he wraps her in his arms, aligned profiles breathing in harmony as they adjust to the sensation of unity.

"See? The consequences aren't so dire," she whispers, and Newt smiles shakily and kisses her before withdrawing, slowly, and sinking back in. He watches her face and his eyes keep her anchored as he sets their pace, smooth and slow, occasionally adding an extra rotation to his hips that jolts through her like lightning. Tina closes her eyes, overcome with sensation as his mouth leaves small love-bites on her neck and shoulders when her head falls back.

"I'm rather a fan, myself," Newt pants eventually, and she has to strain to remember the thread of the conversation. She can _feel_ him smile as he continues. "I could live with these consequences for a long time." He kisses her before turning his head to moan, and Tina latches her mouth to the hinge of his jaw. He moans again, low and long before she releases him.

"Kiss me," she says, and he complies—deep and long and slow, syncing the pace of his lips to that of his hips. Newt maps her mouth with the same thorough attention to detail as he gives all other things when pleasuring her, and before long she's keening in her throat, arms tightening around his shoulders. He intensifies the kiss by sucking her tongue, and when Tina breaks away to snatch a breath from the air, his mouth fastens onto the skin over her voice box and _sucks_. He tastes and feels her sharp cries as she winds ever tighter, poised on the verge of deliverance.

" _Hmmm_ ," he hums, and his voice is pitched low enough that she can feel it thrumming through their joined chests. "I can _feel_ that. Come for me please, Tina." His voice sparks lightning in her nerves, and Newt shivers for a moment before sharpening his thrusts, eyes once more intent on her face. Tina endures the onslaught of his affections for as long as she can before sinking her teeth into his shoulder, tasting his sweat and hearing his gasps as the thunderclap of orgasm rolls through her. Tina cries out her relief and his skin absorbs it, pimpling into goosebumps beneath her damp mouth.

"Oh, _Tina_ ," Newt breathes, jolting against her with a gasp before his rhythm splinters, devolving into a series of messy shudders. Tina lifts her head to steal his mouth and he kisses her hard enough to score her lip, lapping at it as he dissolves into sensuous moans. Tina revels in the wild joy of it when he finds his release, the accompanying splash of warmth as he swells and fills her, trembling with completion.

The influence of his climax sees him slack and pliant against her as they catch their breath, kissing soothingly in the aftermath. Newt apologetically kisses the marks he's left behind but Tina waves a limpid hand, truly unconcerned. It takes a while but eventually he musters the will to separate from her and help her down from the bench, and he freshens the washing cloth before cleaning them both, lingering over her intimate area with a cheeky smile.

"Are you still upset about work?" he asks after they've put on the bare minimum of clothing, just enough to see them through supper time. Tina shakes her head and he grins with his eyes, his gaze warm with regard. "Good. That's very good. I would like a bath after supper, perhaps you can help me wash my back? I'm _dreadfully_ filthy."

Tina giggles and takes his hand, his broad palm rough beneath her smaller, smoother one. "I think that can be arranged," she promises and kisses his nose.


	2. Chapter 2

Newt feeds her sandwiches, right there on the workbench. He cleans it first, and they eat a meal of butter and meat on crusty bread. There's also the hard cheeses she favors, imported from England. For dessert, Newt produces lush red grapes with a flourish, and while Tina initially eats them with her own hands, by the end of the evening, slim fingers brush her lips to pop one in, occasionally stealing a kiss along the way. Tina makes a point to reciprocate, and before long they are doing far more kissing than eating.

"Hmm, wait," he eventually demurs, when his hands have found her waist and her fingers are lost in his hair. He squints at the clock. "We need to settle the creatures for the night. Will you help me? It won't take long. Then, I have something to show you."

Tina makes a show of appearing to give the matter a lot of thought, tilting her head and wrinkling her nose. "I dunno, Mr. Scamander," she says, biting back a smile. "It's getting late and I'm _awfully_ tired." She waits until he opens his mouth before hurrying on. "Then again, if you promise to wash my back when I'm through with yours, I guess I can be persuaded."

Newt laughs and lifts his gaze from the floor. "Of course, Miss Goldstein." He eyes her happily while passing her a pail of feed. "Come on, you handle the creatures you're comfortable with, I'll settle the rest. Meet back here when you're finished." He brushes her nose with his lips, making her laugh.

Tina nods her agreement, and they part ways.

* * *

They rendezvous at the shed, as promised, and Newt transfigures some bath towels before joining their arms and leading her through the case. Tina gives him a confused look but Newt deftly avoids her gaze and leads her into the wand wood, past the trees with their weight of Bowtruckles and further still, to a shaded glen with slanting bars of golden, late-afternoon sunlight. He parts a trailing bit of lacy ivy and steps aside, gesturing for Tina to enter.

Tina isn't sure if it's a strath or a cove or a fairy-ring, but whatever it is, it's beautiful. A small, lichen-covered beach slopes down to a tranquil pool, fed by a small waterfall that gurgles over moss-covered rocks. Small plants grow on the edge and artificial sunlight glints off the clear water. She feels the various privacy spells protecting it as she steps closer, and when she turns to look at Newt, he is looking carefully away.

"I spent a long time in the desert," he explains. "I wanted to have an oasis of sorts, and once I invested the magic in making it a reality, I saw no reason to take it away. So I kept it, and it's traveled with me ever since." Newt raises his head and breaks into an amazingly sunny grin, green eyes crinkling. "Now you know it's here, and I expect it'll be quite difficult to keep you away."

Tina spreads her arms to encompass the entire space, wearing a disbelieving smile. "Newt, this is wonderful! Did you bring me here to swim? Or are we going to take a bath in the pool?"

Newt looks distinctly pleased, but instead of answering he removes his trousers and socks and steps out of his underwear. He turns his face toward the fake sun and breathes deeply, eyes closed in bliss. "So many layers," he murmurs, seemingly to himself. "It is not natural to live so shielded from nature."

Tina hears his words, but chooses to use this unguarded moment to observe _him_ , a wandering magizoologist in his natural habitat. In the light of the case, with his form bared entirely and his eyes turned away, she can take the full measure of him. She can linger lovingly over the lean planes of his body, swathed in supple muscle. She can note the smattering of freckles that cover him _entirely_ , including the curve of his rear. And the numberless, colorless scars, which she's felt and seen but never truly observed.

Newt turns toward her, smiling at her frank appraisal. The magnitude of his smile increases when Tina's eyes dip below his waist to that secret part of him, now soft against his thigh. "You're considering me," he murmurs in a voice as thick and warm as honey. He moves behind her and parts her hair to kiss the nape of her neck, slow and languid. "That's not entirely fair," he breathes into her ear. "Not when you're still wearing clothes."

"Make right this injustice, then," she sighs, deliciously distracted, and his mouth quirks into a smile as it trails over her throat. Newt hums and makes quick work of removing her blouse and trousers, adding them to the pile of his clothes. He lowers his head to trail damp, open-mouthed kisses over her shoulders and arms, dipping his tongue into the cleft of her clavicle and breathing against the hollow of her throat. Tina shivers as her skin pimples, and he rumbles happily before nipping her suprasternal notch.

"We came here to _clean up_ ," he reminds her, as his mouth unfurls against the skin covering her sternum. Tina makes a noncommittal sound while tracing senseless shapes into his back, and he discovers the swell of her breast, tracing its circumference with his tongue. Newt drags his lips over the curve and takes a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking over the stiff peak. Tina's hands find his hair and dig in, nails scratching his scalp as she delights in the attention.

Newt treats the other breast similarly before pressing his cheek to her chest, breathing deeply. "We should do what we came here for," he apologizes. "But that doesn't mean we can't continue other things _later_." Tina makes a noncommittal sound at that but allows him to pull away.

He takes her hand and leads her into the water, pulling her to her waist. He drops a chaste kiss on her cheek before he turns and dives, disappearing beneath the surface with hardly a wave. His wet hair straggles into his eyes when he surfaces, and Newt rakes it aside impatiently before leaning in for a quick kiss. He moves away before it gains traction, however, tutting at her gently before turning and swimming to the edge of the pool with confident strokes.

Tina watches as he gathers a handful of leaves from the small plant on the edge of the water, and submerges them. Then, using them much like a cloth, he drags the bundle over his shoulders as luxurious bubbles spring forth. "They're soap plants," he says, lathering his arms and chest as he explains. "They're native to Italy and parts of Greece, and I cultivated some so I would never have to worry about hygiene while traveling. It's terribly inconvenient to run out of soap when you're weeks away from the closest village and unable to Apparate. Dangerous, too."

Tina digests this information, before opting to walk around the edge of the pool instead of swimming, nervous how her clumsy efforts would be received. She ducks beneath the water, and when she comes up Newt has moved on to his face and hair, eyes screwed shut as he scrubs. He dives once more, then climbs out to wash the lower half of his body, standing on the shore to cleanses every inch.

Tina watches him, shamelessly admiring the view, before carefully washing her own face and neck and hair. Newt wades back and gathers a fresh bunch of leaves, watching her in turn. He follows her when she strides onto the small beach to clean her lower half, and he washes her back with long, sure swipes. Tina returns the gesture, and she does a thorough job of it, leaving them both slick with bubbles. They join hands before re-entering the pool.

She is still avoiding the deeper middle so Newt cups his hands to sprinkle water over her back, a surprisingly evocative gesture. He touches her reverently when the soap is all washed away, her skin wet and incredibly smooth beneath his hands. Newt uses his touch to subtly guide her further into the pool, and when the water reaches her shoulders he swims in gentle circles around her before capturing her mouth in a floating kiss.

The gentle lapping of the waves rocks them where they are connected, mouths moving in concert as their hand's touch and glide and press. They tease each body part in turn, and before long they are pressed together urgently and interrupting their kiss to gasp or moan into overheated skin. Newt folds first, urging Tina toward the edge of the pool to where a small collection of stones pile in a roughly seat-like shape. He lifts her out of the water and deposits her on the lowest rock before slithering up her body for another heated kiss.

Tina gasps when his chest brushes her nipples before he takes one into his mouth. He nibbles and sucks and teases until she chokes, at which point he switches his attention to the other side. Newt rises from the water to kiss her again, all tongue and firm lips, before sinking down to press a kiss below her navel, tongue lapping at her wet skin. Tina inhales sharply at the sensation. He drags his mouth lower, trailing through her damp curls until he can press open-mouthed kisses on her mound.

Tina's hands fly down to knot with his while she sucks in a quick breath. Newt smirks and flicks his tongue out, eyes rolling up to meet hers. "May I?" he asks, careful to keep his voice pitched low. Tina gulps, wide-eyed, and he rests his cheek against her inner thigh in a soothing gesture. "It's all right. Sucking and licking are very natural, primal urges." He drops his eyes to take in the sight of dark curls and moisture that has nothing to do with water, and Tina watches his throat work. "I won't push you, but I would very much like to try, if I may."

Tina swallows, and her voice is unsteady when she answers him. She moves her hands to his hair, cradling the back of his head as he bobs against her. "You can try," she manages after a time. "If you hate it, stop. If I hate it, I'll tell you to stop. Is that alright?"

"Oh _yes_ , Tina," Newt breathes. "That's perfect." He deposits one last damp kiss before allowing himself to sink until he's eye-level with her center. His hand trembles slightly as he reaches out to brush against her damp core, brushing through the sparse hair with two fingers. He uses those same fingers to gently part her outer lips, revealing the flowering complexities within. Newt's breath shakes with his sigh, and he drifts forward to place a series of small kisses there, feeling her heat against his mouth.

Tina goes very tense and very still against him, and when he pulls away she releases her breath in one loud gust. They share a look and she shakes her head, a little desperately. "No, no, 's good!" she hastens to reassure. He brings his lips back to her, only this time his mouth is open when he kisses her, and he adds a little flick of his tongue. She mewls at the contact, and he recognizes this as a good sound, an _encouraging_ sound, so he does it again.

Tina tastes slightly sweet and slightly bitter, here, and she smells of the sea. Newt is intrigued, and he wonders absently if this part of her ebbs and flows like the tide, so he sets his mouth against her more firmly and commences a thorough investigation. He finds that licking her lower down, where he would typically fill her, makes her moan liquidly; further up, tongue firm against the crease of her slit, and she hisses. Higher still, and he encounters the hidden gem he knows relishes a calculated brush or stroke, so he focuses his attention there, brushing with the flat of his tongue before curling around it.

Tina dissolves into bliss above him, small cries leaving her throat as she slumps bonelessly. Newt finds that concentrating on her and keeping himself afloat requires too much thought, so he wraps his arms around her thighs as she tightens against him. Focus no longer divided, he closes his eyes and dedicates himself fully to the task, and soon she spits a curse and _keens_ , bright and sharp, and her sex quivers lushly. Newt tightens his hold to contain the sudden bucking of her hips. Tina's short nails cut into his skin when she clenches and arches and shatters, fluttering against his mouth while her body draws bow-tight, his name spilling from her in adoring gasps.

Newt urges her through her climax and calms her with slow pulls of his tongue until Tina sighs deeply and slumps back. He dips his face into the water to clean it and strokes her legs as she sits up and measures him. She looks past his shoulders into the clear water, where his own arousal juts proudly from his body. She smiles, and it's a coy, heated thing. "We should take care of that," Tina says and uses her leverage to haul him in for a kiss.

It is slower and deeper than the kisses they shared earlier, a layering of passion and desire and love. Tina slips from the rocks to join him in the pool until her hands find him, grasp him, stroke him. Newt moans into her mouth as she works him expertly, and soon he's breaking away to kiss her shoulder and neck. "How do you want to do this?" she whispers. "Do you want me to use my hands? Do you want me to use my mouth, the way you just did on me? I'm not afraid to try." Her words sear his blood. "Or do you just want...me?"

Newt's teeth sink into her shoulder with a growl, and he has to collect himself before he can answer. "You," he manages, reduced to words of single syllables. "You. Always."

Tina nods. "Maybe next time," she murmurs and allows him to brush his fingers between her legs. He touches her until her hips loosen and she rolls against him with pleased sighs. Newt drinks from her mouth with helpless intensity, until they're both left gasping and wanting, and Tina breaks the kiss to take his hand.

She leads him to the edge of the pool, to a large, flat stone ringed in moss. She drapes her chest over the earth, supporting her weight on her well-formed arms, while her lower half bends and folds until her pert behind is in the air, the heart-shaped folds of her sex enticingly on display. Tina cranes her neck to look over her shoulder, a worried crease wrinkling her brow. "Will this work?" she asks, and her face smooths when Newt nods and makes a thoughtless noise of assent, a series of molten pulses working through him and stealing his breath.

Newt's mind reels at the sight before him, while his heart pounds a frantic tattoo against his ribs. He moves like a man in a dream when he positions himself behind her, one hand finding the swell of her derrière, the other dipping lower between her thighs. Tina moans encouragingly as he brushes over her springy curls, and she trembles when he dips two fingers in, testing her readiness. He finds her slick and ready and takes the time to suck his fingers clean before lining them up.

Another torrid surge washes over him and Newt clenches his jaw while he rides it out. When it passes, he rubs himself against her until he feels more in control. Tina makes an impatient sound and twitches against him. " _Newt_ ," she admonishes, and her obvious yearning allows him to shove aside his own hesitation. He makes an apologetic sound and pushes forward, filling her in one long, delicious stroke.

The angle and position are novel, and she is unbelievably hot and tight around him. Tina sighs happily as he fills her, and he keeps his hips still to flatten one hand on the small of her back, the other finding and tangling in hers. Tina shares a smoldering look from over her shoulder while bracing her free hand, and she twitches her hips, encouraging him to move. He finally does, drawing out and sinking back in, the sensations causing them both to shiver, and she sighs and relaxes her arm while his eyes drift close.

" _Merlin_ , Tina," Newt gasps when they find their rhythm. Her hapless response sounds like agreement. He allows his head to fall back, eyes taking in the patchwork ceiling of his case as she mewls and vibrates beneath him. He tries desperately to keep the _pull_ of her at arm's length. She's close to climax, he can feel that, but he's _closer_ and he isn't sure he can contain his response long enough to see her through.

Newt growls and slows his pace, desperate to fend it off when the first tendril of release curls through him. When slowing doesn't work, he removes himself from her far enough to work a hand between them. He grasps the base of his shaft with two slim fingers and squeezes hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Tina makes a bereft sound and Newt closes his eyes. He brings his other hand around, to where she likes to be touched, and brushes against the knot hidden there until she trembles and sighs.

Newt feeds himself back into her when he's feeling in control again, and before long she's rolling her hips and crying out. He keeps his tempo unwavering where they are connected, and his fingers remain steady where they rub. Soon, Tina's releasing his hand in favor of using her arms to brace as she pushes against him, impaling herself in her bid for completion. She hisses and turns her head to catch his eye, and her gaze sears through him.

Newt firms his grip on her and increases the pace until he's snapping his hips against her like a whip. Tina chokes as his other hand works faster. She clamps down on the part of him sunk deep into her with a whine, bucking against him while her sex quivers and suckles his length, and he's gone—the thread restraining his own release frayed beyond repair. Newt comes in long, shuddering runs, pared to the bone with the magnitude of it and too senseless for coherency. His cry echoes through the case, forcing a momentary halt to the typical cacophony.

In the silence that follows, there is only the harsh rasp of their breathing.

Newt collapses gracelessly onto her, retaining just enough presence of mind to catch most of his own weight. He draws two shaky breaths before leaning to the side, falling onto his back and slinging his arms over his eyes. He breathes, deep and trembling and rough until he can remember who and where he is, and what he was doing. Then he lifts a languid hand to brush Tina's leg, urging her to lay beside him. He keeps his wide eyes trained on the ceiling and eventually her face drifts into view, half-dried hair fluffed around her head and her eyes soft and worried.

"Are you alright?" Tina asks, pushing an errant curl off his forehead. Newt isn't sure he can talk yet so he shows a thumbs-up gesture, and she brushes his fingers with hers. "We can't sleep here," she reminds him, and he nods weakly. "Just making sure you know. Will you be okay to move soon?"

Newt gives it serious thought before croaking, "Five minutes." Tina gives him an incredulous look and he shrugs one shoulder minutely. "Ten minutes?" he tries, and she appears mollified. She drapes herself across his chest and traces lines into his ribs and sides, raising goosebumps and effectively keeping him from falling asleep. She kisses the scruff of his jaw and he hums when she finds his mouth. The kiss is slow and lazy and content, but enough to temporarily rouse him.

Tina stands, seeming no worse for wear, and helps Newt unsteadily to his feet. A deep, pleasant ache settles into his muscles when he's upright, and he stumbles into his underwear while Tina puts on her blouse and slacks. She gathers the rest of their clothes but leaves the unused towels, leading him through the case to the shed, and up the tall, narrow steps.

Tina tucks him into their bed, and Newt asks if she's joining him with a bone-cracking yawn. She cards her fingers through his hair and smiles. "No," she says, watching his eyes drift slowly closed. "I still have some paperwork from earlier to go over, so I'll stay up and do that. Then I'm going to take an _actual_ bath and come to bed."

Newt huffs gently and touches her wrist. "Don't work too hard," he mumbles, and she looks away, as she always does whenever he shows concern. He's asleep when her eyes return to his face, so Tina brushes her lips over his cheek and watches him settle deeper into the bed, sighing happily.

She stands to finish her work, turning at the door for one last loving look and thinks that the day hasn't been so terrible after all.


End file.
